"Kim Stanley Robinson - Red Mars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Kim Stanley)

with machismo, the look of men who oppressed their women so cruelly
that naturally the women struck back where they could, terrorizing sons
who then terrorized wives who terrorized sons and so on and so on, in an
endless death spiral of twisted love and sex hatred. So that in that sense
they were all madmen.
Which was one reason Frank liked them. And certainly they would
come in useful to him, acting as a new locus of power. Defend a weak
new neighbor to weaken the old powerful ones, as Machiavelli had said.
So he drank coffee, and gradually, politely, they shifted to English.
"How did you like the speeches?" he asked, looking into the black
mud at the bottom of his demitasse.
"John Boone is the same as ever," old Zeyk replied. The others
laughed angrily. "When he says we will make an indigenous Martian
culture, he only means some of the Terran cultures here will be promoted,
and others attacked. Those perceived as regressive will be singled out for
destruction. It is a form of Ataturkism."
"He thinks everyone on Mars should become American," said a man
named Nejm.
"Why not?" Zeyk said, smiling. "It's already happened on Earth."
"No," Frank said. "You shouldn't misunderstand Boone. People say
he's self-absorbed, but—"
"He is self-absorbed!" Nejm cried. "He lives in a hall of mirrors! He
thinks that we have come to Mars to establish a good old American
superculture, and that everyone will agree to it because it is the John Boone
plan."
Zeyk said, "He doesn't understand that other people have other
opinions."
"It's not that," Frank said. "It's just that he knows they don't make as
much sense as his."
They laughed at that, but the younger men's hoots had a bitter edge.
They all believed that before their arrival Boone had argued in secret
against UN approval for Arab setlements. Frank encouraged this belief,
which was almost true—John disliked any ideology that might get in his
way. He wanted the slate as blank as possible in everybody who came up.
The Arabs, however, believed that John disliked them in particular.
Young Selim el-Hayil opened his mouth to speak, and Frank gave him a
swift warning glance. Selim froze, then pursed his mouth angrily. Frank
said, "Well, he's not as bad as all that. Although to tell the truth I've heard
him say it would have been better if the Americans and Russians had been
able to claim the planet when they arrived, like explorers in the old days."
Their laughter was brief and grim. Selim's shoulders hunched as if
struck. Frank shrugged and smiled, spread his hands wide. "But it's
pointless! I mean, what can he do?"
Old Zeyk lifted his eyebrows. "Opinions vary."
# # #
Chalmers got up to move on, meeting for one instant Selim's insistent
gaze. Then he strode down a side street, one of the narrow lanes that
connected the city's seven main boulevards. Most were paved with
cobblestones or streetgrass, but this one was rough blond concrete. He
slowed by a recessed doorway, looked in the window of a closed boot